


Why Don't You Go and See Him Then?

by Pancake_child



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Beating, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Brutal Murder, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Choking, Dream Team SMP Lore (Video Blogging RPF), Face Punching, Gore, Hurt No Comfort, Manipulation, Mentioned Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Pandora's Vault Prison, Prison, Sad Ending, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:27:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29798127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pancake_child/pseuds/Pancake_child
Summary: [ SPOILERS FOR TOMMY LORE STREAM ( MARCH 1ST 2021 ) ]Dream literally beats Tommy to death, but it's written like they aren't block people.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	Why Don't You Go and See Him Then?

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING:  
> Graphic Violence, please read the tags before you go on 
> 
> This is literally just murder. There's no other way to explain this. Not sure why I felt the need to write it, but my brain wouldn't shut up so; 
> 
> READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 
> 
> All dialogue is taken either directly from the stream or ever so slightly paraphrased, but none of it is my making whatsoever. I wanted to keep this as close to canon as I possibly could.

"Y'know," Tommy muttered, actively meeting Dream's gaze like losing it would mean certain death. For all he knew, it would. "I think you're right, Dream, this _isn't_ as bad as exile." The brief widening of Dream's eyes was all the push Tommy needed to continue. "Because in exile I thought you had all the control, I was just a puppet on your stupid strings…" he trailed off and began pacing, shaking off any start of falling back into the memories of his exile. "And even though I'm stuck in this box with you, and I'm claustrophobic, and, and-" 

His head shot up as the thrilling call of the Elder Guardian echoed in the room, "What the fuck was that noise?" He scowled and shook his head, "Here's the thing, here's the thing I _know_." He shook his head and snickered, watching as Dream's face went from a calculated mask to curiosity, "I don't think that the b-" He stopped himself, coming to the realization that had been in the back of his head for some time. "How could I have been so stupid?" He breathed, hanging his head back and staring at the ceiling, chuckling, "The revive book, Dream, it isn't real is it? It isn't fucking real. Cause all you do-" 

Dream cut him off, stepping towards him, "I-" 

Tommy's gaze shot back down the moment Dream moved and began to speak, without thinking he hit him in the side of the face. He didn't have power here, it didn't matter. "Shut the _fuck_ up! All you do is lie to me!" He let his voice drop in volume as he stepped forward, almost touching Dream's nose with his own, "You're a psychopath, a clinical manipulator, if you will. So I know," He stepped back, now pressing a finger into Dreams sternum, "That this 'revive book' you keep fucking going on about, "ooh JSchlatt"!! JSchlatt was just a fucking drunk mad man, he didn't have access to _shit_! You're lying, fuck off." 

Dream's expression shifted to nothing more than amusement, though Tommy happened to catch a glimpse of something burning behind his eyes before he hid it. "You're calling me a liar," Dream replied simply, "You're calling me a liar when I'm not lying. Why else would I switch to his side?"

Tommy's voice rose again, pure rage surging up into his chest, "He was gone for two weeks, why would that give him power? That doesn't make any sense! I genuinely think you're just lying to me." 

"Tommy," now Dream was visibly getting more upset, his expression revealing some of what was beneath the metaphorical mask. "You come, you be disrespectful, you be annoying, you be a little _bitch_ -" With that he grasped the front of Tommy's shirt and pulled him forward, curling his other hand into a fist, "You accuse me of being a _liar_ ," his expression became more rage-filled as he spoke, and without even a breath he slammed his fist into Tommy's face. "You're calling me manipulative," another punch, this time harder and directly against Tommy's nose. 

Tommy heard the crack more than he felt it. "Stop fucking punching me." His voice came out with more of a waver than he'd been originally intending. 

Dream smirked and let Tommy's shirt go, taking a step back, "I'm not fucking lying. JSchlatt gave me the book before he died." 

"Revive him then!" Tommy called, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. He brought his hand back, noting it was now smeared with blood. "Revive him, right here." 

"That's not how that-" 

" _Revive him right now_." Tommy hissed. 

"I'm not _lying_ , why would I be _lying_ ," Dream's voice was moving to a shout now and he shoved Tommy hard against the obsidian wall behind him. He brought his fist up again and again, every one of his words piercing with each blow. He stopped, exhaling directly into Tommy's face. He didn't move, but didn't continue hitting him. 

Tommy blinked, his vision already ever so slightly blurred and his head ringing.

"To save my own _skin_?" Dream hissed, bringing his fist up once more and striking Tommy on the cheekbone. He didn't seem to note the growing amount of blood on his knuckles.

Tommy barely gave a thought before grinning, giving a slight nod, "That's exactly what I think. You're a _liar_. I look at you, and all I see is a sad. little. man." Each word was punctuated with another hit to his face. He couldn't feel it anymore. Dream wouldn't kill him, he couldn't, he didn't have the power here. 

Dream chuckled, the laugh echoing with a wild crazed rage, "I literally have your life in my hands right now." He pressed Tommy's shoulder into the wall harder as if proving the point. "You can't kill me, but I can kill you. And what, if you can't kill me, does that make me _god_?" He smiled wide enough that Tommy vaguely wondered if it hurt. Two more punches came, harder than before. Each point of contact gave resounding cracks. 

Tommy started to speak, and was instantly stopped by the hand formerly shoving him against the wall moving to his throat. Dream's hands were large, Tommy vaguely noted, as it began to close around his throat. Dream continued speaking, his voice growing in volume, and he simply began wailing on Tommy. Blow after blow met its mark, but Tommy couldn't feel those yet, instead it was the lack of oxygen that sent his mind from denying that Dream had the power to kill him to the sudden realization that he very well could die right there in that moment. He gasped, reaching up to try to tug Dream's hand away. "Dream, stop it. _Stop it._ " 

The begging seemed to give Dream pause, and he stopped with his fist midair, ready to bring it back down again. "I'm not a liar." 

Tommy, outside his better judgement, spoke once more, "I've seen Jschlatt's corpse. That revive book doesn't exist, you're _lying_." Maybe he would blame the idiocy on lack of oxygen. Or the sheer amount of pain that was suddenly hitting him. His body was practically screaming to be let free, and at that point the only thing he felt necessary was pure scathing spite. He choked on his own blood and took that moment to decidedly spit it straight on Dream's face. 

"You care so fucking much about Jschlatt, why don't you go see _him_." That was when Dream finally let go. He used his grip on Tommy's throat to swing him to the floor, cackling at the resounding smack of his skull on the obsidian. He swung his leg over Tommy's and pinned him down, this time swinging both fists wildly for any portion of solid he could touch. 

Tommy didn't get even the slightest chance to call out for help or for Dream to stop. Instead his body deemed this the moment to stop fighting it. He was going to die. 

Dream kept going even as Tommy stopped fighting, punching harder and harder as if he hadn't already done enough damage. His knuckles were burning and his shoulders ached, but he continued hitting the sixteen year old beneath him until the rage inside him finally settled. 

When he pulled away he barely recognized Tommy. His hair was matted with blood and gore, and multiple portions of his face were visibly broken. His nose was the worst, practically shattered from how many blows it had taken. Dream couldn't tell how much of the blood on his knuckles was his or Tommy's. Truthfully, he didn't care. 

He stood, letting his hands drop uselessly to his sides. He paid Tommy no other glance and moved back to the chest formerly seating a cat, and took the place instead. His hands hurt. 

An hour passed before Sam called through offering more potatoes, which Dream accepted. The resounding silence when Sam reiterated Tommy's name caused a smile to form on Dream's face. He didn't have to say he'd killed him, the tense air and lack of response was enough. 

Needless to say, Dream didn't get the potatoes. 


End file.
